


Flowers, Bandages, and Sweaters

by LocalOcultist



Category: Clone High
Genre: AND I JSUT WANNA- SMOOCH, AND I LOVE JFK, Awkward Crush, Awkward Flirting, BUT THIS IS COMFORT FOR ME, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Himbo JFK (Clone High), Horny Teenagers, LMAO ITS A FANFICTION FROM YOURS TRULY DID U NOT EXPECT POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIPS??? R U KIDDING????, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, PLEASE I JSUT LOVE VINNIE, PLZ IM SO EMBARRASSED, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Self-Insert OC, Teen Romance, Teenage Hormones, a lot of awkwardness lol, clone high oc - Freeform, running RAMPANT LMAO, teen crisis hotline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26986453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalOcultist/pseuds/LocalOcultist
Summary: Maude "Fealy" Mary Hawks, another clone attending Clone High. Known as a down-to-earth girl who can have a spunky attitude at times, she never really stood out amongst the crowd of various other historical replicas. The "popular kids" annoyed her with their egoistical personalities, but she couldn't deny, they were attractive. And for some reason, there's just one small red head sitting beside her in art period that she just can't take her eyes off of.
Relationships: JFK & Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High), JFK/Original Character(s)/Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High), JFK/Original Characters(s), JFK/Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High), Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High)/Original Character(s), Vincent Van Gogh (Clone High)/Original Character(s)/JFK
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Flowers, Bandages, and Sweaters

****

**Author's Note: Alr, so basically this is the entire clone high series but kinda different bcuz I shoved my oc in and called it a day, lol. But anyways, THIS IS SO EMBARRASSINGGG BUT I JUST LOVE VINNIE SO MUCH OMFGGG,,,HE'S SO CUTE??? My boy deserves more screentime, I love his voice omfg,,,, </3333 Hella music refrences in this one, and my nerdy ass wanted to make sure they were all songs released in early 2003 and below, lol. Just to fit with the timeline, y'know? :,)))**

**Warning: Swearing, mention of underage sex and underage drinking**

**Disclaimer: Bruh, I don’t own Clone High, all rights go to the creators!**

* * *

**Beginning...**

_Clone High, your typical high school with a hierarchy that destroys relationship and forms enemies amongst students. There's the top dogs of the school, the ones everyone either hates or wants to fuck. There's truly no escaping it. But this wasn't your average high school, of course. The student body was made up of teenage clones, born with the DNA of various historical figures in history. And I was one of them. My clone mother is Maude 'Fealy' Mary Hawks, a beautiful silent film actress. Although we have the same DNA, I, as any other clone, have the quiet longing to be more like my clone parent. And as summer vacation came to an end, it was eventually time to return to Clone High._

I walked down the sidewalk, white cardigan swishing behind me, my thick, curly hair bouncing on my shoulders as I moved. The two-story building grew closer in my vision, along with some familiar faces that I had grown up with surrounding the campus. Everyone had changed in some way, some less noticeable than others. Such as... "Hey, Maudes!" Joan of Arc waved, a small smile on her usually cold face. I returned her smile, waving more eagerly. "Joan! Oh my gosh, it's good to see you again! It's been a while, huh? How was camp?" I questioned, fiddling with the edge of my skirt. Joan and I were close friends, ever since preschool. We usually bonded over films and literature, and we indulged ourselves in our hobby of movie-making. Plus, we were partners in crime! Man, robbing banks and committing arson was always fun with her.

She groaned and placed a hand on her jutted out hip. "Hell. You wouldn't _believe_ the shit I've done this summer. I'll tell you later, but anyways- how was your summer?" "Pretty nice, actually! My garden's coming along well, saw some musicals, got into playing bass. Bummer that your summer was pretty shit, though," I huffed in amusement.

"Maudes, good to see you!" Abraham Lincoln, or just Abe, greeted me, walking up beside Joan. He's a cool dude, pretty chill! I mean, despite the fact that he unconsciously leads poor Joan on with her feelings, he wasn't too unpleasant to be around. He was nice, if not just awkward, and I've never had a problem with him. I turned to him, my eyes widening for a fraction as I had to lean my head up just to look him in the eye. "Damn, Abe! I mean, you were always tall of course, but you're _towering_ over most of the student body!" I exclaimed, chuckling. "Yeah, I guess so," he gave me a crooked smile and rubbed his arm. 

"HEYO! Maudie, up top!" Gandhi burst in, throwing his arm up for a high five. "Hey dude!" I laughed, returning the gesture. Gandhi was a party-going obnoxious kind of guy! He's been that way since elementary I believe? But he's sort of an unexpected firecracker. He's spontaneous and most of the time, you don't know when or if he's gonna do something wild. It was entertaining and funny to watch. Most of the time. "Aw, yes! One down!" he cheered, snapping finger guns at me. I gave him my own finger guns, clicking my tongue and winking. "Awesome energy, feels a _lot_ more nice to return to school," I snorted, turning towards the school building.

From here, I spotted the Presley brothers discussing their lunch, to Marilyn Monroe greeting JFK as he stood with Julius Caesar. Oh, yeah. JFK, definitely one of the 'top dogs' of the school. Bangin' chicks left and right while bullying others who are lower on the hierarchy. Typical jock, which I definitely despise. Thankfully, I managed to lay low on his radar for the majority of our school years, so I've never really attracted his attention. And hopefully, it stays that way until we graduate.

"Man, one of the Elvis' really let himself go," Abe commented. "Hasn't anyone here grown at all?" Joan grunted. There was a small pause as Gandhi smiled to himself and turned to Joan, eyes glued on her now-developed chest. She punched him, not looking away from the other students. "You were thinking it," she stated. "I know," he wheezed from the ground. "I would help you, but you definitely deserved that," I sighed, shaking my head before walking off as everyone began piling into the building. 

As Joan and Abe walked ahead of me, my eyes were drawn to the various paintings hung near the art room. Of course, there were ones with different styles made by different students, but the ones that really caught my eye were the beautiful portraits of flowers, especially sunflowers. With just a glance, you could tell the care and confidence within the strokes. Not that I knew a lot about art, but they were _beautiful_. The bright colors gave me warm feelings of joy and hope, and not to be dramatic, but the longer I stared the more I felt like I was within the landscape. Uh, a bit cheesy, right?

“I just don’t get what he _sees_ in her! Urgh! I just wanna- _God_ , Maudes. Why did I have to fall for such a dumbass? A cute, lovable...dumbass,” Joan sighed from beside me, causing me to jump in surprise. I guess I was too lost in my admiration that I didn’t even notice something just happened. Something that apparently involves Joan and her pitiful pining after Abe. Speaking of which, said male clone was currently bleeding from his arm trapped within the broken glass case of the trophy display, Cleopatra strutting away from the scene as Gandhi blinked at Abe’s frozen form. “...You deserve better, you know that, Joan?” I sighed, patting her on the back. Truly a sad sight. Abe was an okay guy, but let’s be honest. Joan really does deserve so much better. "I just wish he'd see _me_ for once, you know?" she mumbled sadly, clutching a roll of gauze in her hand. I rubbed her arm and gave her a crooked smile. "You wanna go burn stuff on a hill after school?" I softly asked. "...Yeah." she sighed. "Alright, well. I gotta go to my first period. Don't, uh, exactly wanna be late for school," I smiled, bidding her goodbye as we waved to each other. Remembering my schedule, I walked to my first period, art. Entering the room, barely anyone glanced at me as I took a seat at the back corner.

Slipping in an ear bud, I began listening to No Doubt's latest album, Rock Steady. I softly hummed to myself until the second bell finally rang, meaning class had started. Our teacher introduced himself and began droning on about what we'd be learning. I half-heartedly listened, instead opting to look around and get a look at my classmates. Mostly everyone here was sort of a stranger to me, either that, or I just barely know them. The only person I was familiar with was Marie Curie, a sweet girl who knew how to dance. We talk quite a lot, mainly over the phone about some drama and gush over musicals together. 

She spotted me and I smiled and waved. She gave me a friendly grin and turned back to the front. I idly kept skimming over faces until my eyes landed on a short, frail-looking boy with orange hair, stubble growing around his lower face. What drew my attention were the bandages wrapped over his ears and around his head. 

_Oh,_ I realized. _Vincent van Gogh_. He sat a few seats away from me to my right, looking down at his sketchbook. I knew of him, I've seen the guy around, but rarely. Since his clone-father was famous, obviously everyone knew him, but the kid kept to himself. I think he gets picked on due to his quiet and timid demeanor, but those were only whispers I heard throughout my school years. Or at least, I had hoped.

He had an expression on his face that was a mix between anxious and exhaustion, and judging by the dark bags under his eyes he probably has trouble sleeping. ' _Shit, I mean, I could relate. My clone parents have been...well, putting me in a shit mood lately. I can't remember the last time I didn't fall asleep crying to Blink-182,_ ' I sympathized, recalling the frequent lonely nights I've been having over the summer. 

Despite the fact that I've never even talked to Vincent, I began sharing a slight kinship with him over our seemingly shared interest of troubled sleep. ' _He seems kinda cool. I wanna talk to him!_ ' I thought eagerly, smiling to myself as I looked down at my empty desk. ' _Alright, hopefully I get a chance to talk to him or something during class? Oh my gosh, I really hope we have more classes together!_ ' Optimistic at the idea of gaining a new relatable friend, I couldn't help but giggle to myself in joy as I daydreamed to myself.

Seeing everybody begin to pack their things, I snapped out of my fantasies and stood up, ready to head out for the next period. I took a quick glance over at Van Gogh, only to flinch as I made eye contact with the tired boy. Flustered, I snapped my gaze away and made my way out the door, face red from being caught. Clutching my ipod in my hand and holding my heated cheek in the other, I couldn't help but think to myself...

_'His eyes were...really pretty.'_

* * *

After another boring introduction in English, it was finally lunch time. Joan and the boys had invited me to eat at the Grassy Knoll, and obviously, I went. As I sipped on a strawberry milkshake, the three told me about earlier with Abe and Cleo, to Joan starting up a teen crisis hotline, to JFK's party (which they were not invited to, told directly by Kennedy himself in the men's bathroom). "Woah, I mean- sounds like a pretty eventful morning, guys," I chuckled. "Oh, and by the way! Joan, I really think it's cool that you decided to launch something that'll really help other students. God knows mental health isn't prioritized in this town, and I'm glad you're the first who took the initiative," I smiled. "Yeah, I-I figured that I should do something for community service. It's something I'm _really_ passionate and committed to," Joan said, glancing discreetly towards Abe. ' _Oh, Joan,_ ' I smiled pitifully at her. 

"Well, nonetheless, I'm actually really interested in this! You think I could help out?" I questioned, taking a sip from my straw. The pale girl perked up and turned to me by her side. "Oh, really? Yeah, that's- I'd really appreciate it, thank you!" she said gratefully. I beamed and nodded. Gandhi sighed in relief and leaned back into the booth. "So since Maudes is helping you, does that mean-?" "No Gandhi, you're still apart of this," Joan grunted, cue Gandhi's defeated groan. 

"Oh! And I wanted to ask- you guys know anything about Van Gogh? Y'know, short kid, orange hair, bandages?" I asked with a hopeful smile on my face. "Van Gogh? Yeah, I've seen him around. Little dude never talks though, he's always got this miserable look on his face," Gandhi shrugged, picking his nose before pausing and squinting at me. "Why're you suddenly interested? You like him or somethin'?" I flushed and snorted, reaching up to fumble with the flowers in my bushy hair. "Look dude, he's in my first period art class and like- I thought he was cute, and I liked his whole tired demeanor, alright? I, like, really related to that, sooo I thought, I wanna be his friend, y'know?"

 _Ew,_ it felt weird to say it outloud like that. Did that sound really ignorant of me? God, I hope not. I genuinely wanna talk to Vincent, but I can't help but think that he's attractive, alright!? I mean, short, timid-looking, probably, _maybe_ interested in art? Damn, that's hot. (I don't really wanna _assume_ he's an art person judging by his clone father since I know some clones dislike being compared to their clone parents due to the insecurity and expectations of living up to them. _Cough, cough_. Me.) 

"Ooh, Maude likes the weird little emo kid- _Ack!_ " Gandhi teased before getting kicked under the table. Most likely from Joan. "Go for it! I mean, maybe you guys have something in common, right?" Abe encouraged, smiling at me. I smiled back and nodded as Joan spoke up, "You're a really bright and friendly person, I'm sure you'll have no problem befriending him." "I hope so," I giggled, returning to my milkshake.

"Well, anyways, I gotta get to that party," Abe spoke up. "Dude, we're never gonna get invited sitting here surrounded by geeks," Gandhi complained. "They're not geeks, Gandhi. They're just delightfully eccentric," Joan informed him. And up appeared the clone of George Washington Carver with a friendly smile on his lips. "Hello, cohort. It is I, George Washington Carver, and I spent my summer bio-engineering this anthropomorphic peanut." He held up his hand to reveal a jar containing a peanut with limbs and a bowler hat, complete with a monocle. The little guy grinned and tipped his hat off to us politely, exclaiming, "Hi-oh, Gandhas*! I'd shake your hands but- you know, peanut arms!" He waved his little limbs around and did a little dance. 

I happily clapped and gave him a small wave before turning back to the others. "Alright, they're geeks, but we have better things to do than worry about who or what we're seen with," Joan said. Abe suddenly shot up and lifted his finger, a determined look on his face. "No, Gandhi's right. This isn't about who we hang out with, this is about not having to put your own hand on your buttock and pretend it's a woman's breast." 

I looked at him with furrowed brows, tilting my head and looking to the others with a look of 'Is he fucking serious?' The other two rose a brow at him as well at his- uh, unusual words as Abe continued, "All I'm saying is; a girl is interested in me and I'm not going to ignore it!" Joan got up and looked up at him. "Abe, I want you." I choked on my milkshake and looked over at Gandhi with wide eyes. _No way, she just went for it!_

...Is what I would've thought, had I not known Abe's _painfully_ oblivious attention span would completely ghost over Joan's true intentions. "You want me to what?" Abe questioned. Joan awkwardly looked to the side and fumbled with her words. "Um, uh..." "Forgot what you were gonna say, happens to me all the time," Abe said understandingly. I refrained from slamming my face flat onto the surface of the table and groaning, instead squinting up at the tall teen boy in disbelief. Joan has like Abe since, what? Forever? He's- _basically_ her first love. The idiot wouldn't see her as a girl even if she was standing naked right in front of him. Hell, I won't lie, even I had a crush on Joan at some point! But seeing as how she wouldn't dare look at anyone but Abe, I eventually embraced that we're better off as best friends. But my point still stands, she deserves better!

"Well, I'm off!" Abe exclaimed before turning around to see Gandhi looking up at him with a deadpan and his arms crossed over his chest. "What?" Abe questioned before shrugging and walking over to Cleopatra and JFK's table, his lanky form towering over their booth as he spoke up. We listened in to his confrontation with the literal alpha-male of the school, not going on for too long as Abe bargained that he'd bring the beer, Kennedy responding that we be there at 8. I glanced over at Joan, watching as she silently bristled as she watched Cleo give a pleased look at Abe as JFK dragged her off.

Gandhi raced off and slid towards Abe, raising his arms victoriously and exclaiming, "SHAZAAAM! We're in! Any ideas on how to get the beer?" "Nope!" Abe responded. I slapped a hand to my face and sighed, walking up to them with Joan beside me. "Well, good luck, guys. Joan and I'll be managing the hotline today, so you're on your own," I shrugged at them. "We'll figure somethin' out, right Abe?" Gandhi said, looking up at his best buddy. "Right," Abe replied absent-mindedly, staring off into the air. "Uh, right. Well, c'mon guys, class is gonna start soon," Joan said, walking off with me in tow as we began to make our way back to campus.

* * *

"IT'S TIME FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL FITNESS TEST! WHERE WE MAKE YOU EVEN MORE INSECURE ABOUT YOUR BODIES...BY TOUCHING YOU WHILE YOU PERFORM ARBITUARY PHYSICAL TASKS!" "Can't believe we got _Eleanor Roosevelt_ as a gym teacher," Abe sighed. I cringed at our teacher's yells, feeling disgusted at the thought of being touched by- well, a pervert is a _bold_ accusation, but Eleanor Roosevelt has been known as a PE teacher to be....well, _handsy_ towards the students. "Yeah, he's...great- y'know Abe, tonight I finally have the night off from the hotline- which is community service, so I was thinking we could, like, y'know, carpool to JFK's party. Y'know...save, gas..." Joan suggested timidly. 

_But I thought she barely started the hotline today? Why'd she say she finally has a break if it's only been a few hours?_ You must've thought. Well, while we were walking back, Joan asked if I could cover the hotline for her in order to go with Abe to the party. Being the understanding and supportive friend I am, of course I said yes. Win-win for us, I get to help people and talk them through their troubles while she gets a chance with the boy she loves! Okay, to be honest, I don't know why she said that she finally has a night off. I guess it was a slip-of-the-tongue kind of deal, so I'll just shrug it off.

I gasped as Eleanor Roosevelt thrusted his finger at us, the four of us leaning away in fright. "YOU LIKE TALKIN', OF ARC? WELL, YOU CAN TALK YOUR TIGHT LITTLE _BUNS_ INTO PRINCIPLE SCUDWORTH'S OFFICE!" My mouth dropped in horror as Joan walked past us, Roosevelt's eyes trained on her ass. "Slooowlyy... _Oh_ , yeah." ' _NO, NONONONONO! WRONG, THIS IS WRONG, EW, FUCKING CREEP!_ ' I internally screamed, revolted by what just happened. 

" _Hey, stud_ ," Cleopatra's sultry voice said from behind us. I glanced over to find Abe tensing in surprise at her appearance. "I'm so glad you're getting the beer tonight. I just _love_ underage drinking," she smoldered. Abe wheezed in an incoherent manner before the attractive female walked off. "Okay, how the hell am I gonna get that beer?" Abe thought out loud. "Easy, tell em' that they heard you wrong. What you said was, I'll get the...beards," Gandhi suggested, causing me to snort in amusement. "That makes no sense," Abe said, raising a brow. "Yeah- but if you think about it, it would still be a pretty sweet party," Gandhi grinned as we stared at him in silence. 

Gym period ended, and so began math period. Unfortunately, I had neither Joan, Gandhi, Abe, or _Van Gogh_ in my class, and even _worse_ , I was with JFK, of all people. Wanna know the worst part though?

"Hey, hey, hey, hey, er- uh, hot flower girl, hey, hey-" " _What?_ " I lowly hissed, annoyed by JFK's antics. "Wanna go to my party tonight? I could, er- uh, fertilize _your_ flower, if ya catch my drift. And by fertilize, I mean sex! And obviously, er- uh, safe sex! With a condom! I er-uh, was joking about the fertilize part, if you didn't know," he whispered loudly, practically hissing back to me as he leaned in. Normally, I've would've laughed had it not been for the fact that not only is he known for being a womanizing asshole, but he bullies and shoves kids into lockers. _God_ , I despised people like him.

"Kennedy, do you _mind_ backing off? Besides, I'm too busy to go to your party. And even if I _was_ gonna have sex with anyone tonight, it definitely wouldn't be you. I don't even know you!" I whispered back, glaring at him before snapping my gaze back to my math textbook in front of me. "Then you can _get_ to know me through my er- uh, party! Come on, I'm JFK! And you're a hot broad! Let's er- uh, bang!" he insisted. "I can't, even if I wanted to. I'm _busy_. Talk to me when you're not only wanting me for my body and when you stop being an asshole 24/7 and picking on kids," I huffed, tired of this back-and-forth dilemma. 

He was about to retort back when I was, quite literally, saved by the bell. Hurriedly grabbing my textbook and notes, I clutched them to my chest and angrily speed-walked out the room, approaching my locker and hurriedly unlocking it, shoving my books into a shelf. ' _What a fucking dickhead! GOD, will he ever learn to BACK OFF?? FUCK!_ ' I thought in aggravation to myself. Taking a deep breath, I sighed and walked off to the bathroom to cool off, shoving my earbuds in my ears and blasting Demolition Lovers to get my angsty mood under control. 

As I washed my hands, the speakers turned on, JFK's accented voice ringing out throughout the school. " _Attention, students! JFK will be having a huge kegger tonight. STUDENTS ONLY! That is all._ " I rolled my eyes and dried my hands before walking off to my final two classes.

Science was a breeze, and finally came homeroom. Settling down in the back seats, unfortunately I didn't get the window (Amelia Earhart took it, damn! But she's pretty cool, so I'll let it slide), but I was a seat away from it so I guess it wasn't too bad. I leaned my jaw on my hand, resting my elbow against the sanded wood of my desk as I boredly watched students pile in.

And, much like a cheesy scene from a romance movie that probably was either widely loved or hated, in walked _Vincent van Gogh himself_. Well, at least his _clone_ self. He hadn't looked any better from this morning, but just as anyone else did, he just looked like he wanted to go home. Despite my exhaustion, my eyes lit up and I scrambled to switch the angsty music to a lighter, more meaningful one like Underneath It All by No Doubt. Fitted my current mood, y'know?

He discreetly looked around the room before (once again) making eye contact with me, who gave a small smile and a friendly wave, motioning towards the desk next to mine. He gave me a nervous look, turning behind him to see if I was looking towards someone else before shyly pointing to himself, tilting his head with furrowed brows. I eagerly nodded, perking up as he hesitantly made his way over to the seat on my left. He placed various sketchbooks down on the desk, all of which seemed to be a mix of high-quality, expensive sketchpads to 1 dollar notebooks. 

_Huh,_ I mused to myself. _He certainly is an artist then._ "Um, hey! I'm uh- Maudes- Maude Fealy," I stumbled over my words, feeling anxiety burst into my chest as he looked up at me from his seat. "Oh, I'm Vincent van Gogh- well, his- his clone, at least," he muttered nervously, pulling at the cuffs on the sleeves of his navy coat. ' _Oh my god, he was so fucking cute. His accent sounds like he needs to sneeze but it's like- so cute?! NO! No, no, no! Stop- get to know him first before your hopeless romantic, dumb ass falls too deep! You might scare him off!'_

"O-oh, um, I know! UH- I mean, everyone knows that you resemble him- so I- it's obvious...? Erm, sorry, was that insensitive? I, um, didn't mean to," I stuttered, a blush growing on my cheeks as I began sweating nervously. "No, it's okay. Um, so did you...want something?" he asked timidly. "Want something...? Uh, yeah, actually! Um, sorry if this sounds weird but, you wanna be, um, _friends_?" I questioned, trailing off as my voice squeaked. He blinked at me in surprise before furrowing his brows and turning back to his desk, pointedly avoiding my gaze. 

My eyes widened at his sudden hostility before guiltily looking down at my hands, feeling myself tear up. ' _Did I say something wrong? Does- was I annoying? I...Fuck, FUCK! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have even bothered him, and now he hates me! Fuck, fuck, you screwed it up, Maude. God, you're a mess!'_

Leaning my cheek against my hand and tilting my head down in order to have my hair fall over my face, I discreetly wiped at my falling tears frantically, holding in sobs and whimpers. ' _Oh, Maudes...Now you've done it. Stupid girl. Sensitive, over-emotional girl.'_

* * *

Homeroom went by without any disruptions, although the tension between Van Gogh and I choked me up. Once the bell rung, I rushed out of class, wanting to leave as soon as possible and avoid my obvious humiliation of getting rejected. ' _Oh, right. The hotline. I promised Joan I'd help,_ ' I remembered, turning a corner to head into the student council classroom. 

A wool-covered middle-aged male teacher I hadn't met before was setting things up until I made my entrance, "Oh boy, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Mr. Sheepman. Are you helping with the hotline?" he said enthusiastically, giving me a friendly smile and gesturing to the banner labeled 'Teen Crisis Hotline'. _Oh, so I was in the right place then._ Brushing this off, I gave him a polite wave with a wry smile. "Nice to meet you. Yeah, I'm helping," I greeted before sitting down and trying to keep my mind off of things.

"Yo! I'm here to help some sad teenagers get over their problems!" Gandhi exclaimed, sliding into the room with finger guns. "That's not what you're supposed to do, Gandhi. It's more about helping them find ways to deal with their emotions and understand themselves," I informed him, gesturing to the seat beside me. "Yeah, yeah. Same thing, anyways, hand me a line!" He laughed, plopping down next to me. "Well, we gotta wait until it rings," I shrugged before one of the phones rung. Mr. Sheepman was the first to pick it up, listening in to the line. 

After a few simple sentences between Mr. Sheepman and the caller, my face fell into an irked expression as I realized it was JFK. "You seem to have this compulsion to, 'nail Cleo'. Whaddya think drives this desire to act overly macho?" Mr. Sheepman asked, his tone changing throughout the conversation. _Are you serious? Is he legit talking about his fucking horniness over Cleo over the hotline?! Ugh, the nerve._ I grumbled to myself, sinking into my chair. As Mr. Sheepman finally hung up, Joan fell through the ceiling, landing on the floor and getting up. "Oh, Joan!" I exclaimed, standing up to see if she was okay. She brushed herself off, and luckily there didn't seem to be any wounds on her.

"Death maze, huh?" Gandhi asked nonchalantly. "Oh, yeah, I was in the maze, once. It was...hot. And now I'm hot, now. I think I'll take my shirt off," Mr. Sheepman said before pulling out a razor and shaving the wool from his torso. "Ready for the weekend!" He sighed in relief. 

"Gandhi, I think it's really big of you to skip the party and work the hotline tonight," Joan told him, looking off to the side. I blinked for like, a moment only to find Gandhi halfway out the window as Joan thanked him. "Oh, o-of course! Sure, I buckled under the pressure of living up to the original Gandhi and became a, non-stop party machine, but dammit," he sighed, lifting his arms up. "I still care. So, Joan, you can count on me." I smiled warmly at his softened expression before Joan smiled and looked over at me. "You too, Maudes. I really appreciate you doing this." I chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Anytime. Now, go! You're off, remember?" I winked. She smiled gratefully at me and waved, running off to go to the party. 

"Now, let's do this Gand-" I said, turning around before my jaw dropped at nothing. Literally, nothing. Gandhi was nowhere to be seen. I ran over to the window to find him running off towards JFK's house. "That- prick!" I growled, stomping back over to my seat and groaning, plopping down into my chair. The phone rung and I immediately answered it. "Hello, Teen Crisis Hotline. We're here because we care," I said, making my tone lighter to make the caller comfortable. "- _Maudes! Hey! Sorry for bailing on you like that-_ " "Dammit, Gandhi!" " _I know, I know. But tell you what, if you cover for me I'll treat you for lunch tomorrow, yeah?_ " I paused and thought it over.

"...The next two lunches at least." " _Got you, bro! Anyways, thanks!_ " "Have fun," I begrudgingly replied before he hung up. I glanced longingly at the phone before Mr. Sheepman grinned at me. "Don't feel too bad, I'll be here with ya!" I gave him a half-smile and nodded. "Yeah! ...Thanks, Mr. Sheepman." "Don't mention it!"

The next hour and a half consisted of prank calls and drunken teenagers slurring about their heartbreaks. ' _I guess that party was pretty fun, huh,'_ I thought to myself with a somber smile. '... _I wish I could've gone with my friends. Oh well, this is okay._ ' The phone rang and I picked it up, hearing the muffled sobs of someone on the other end. A slow, sweet melody played in from the caller's end, probably listening to music as they wallowed in their emotions. 

...Something I have done, night after night. "Uh- oh, T-Teen Crisis...Hotline?" I fumbled, feeling concerned for the other end. There was a pause along with sniffles before a shaky voice breathed out into the line. " _H...Hello?_ " the voice cracked in a way that hurt my heart on an emotional level.

"Yes, hi. I'm here to help- or listen, if you prefer," I said softly, getting up and taking the phone with me as I strung along the wire.

" _U-uh, um, I-..._ " the voice fumbled and the sounds of sniffling filled the speaker. "Take your time. We have all night, okay? I'll be right here on the other end," I said reassuringly, my tone gentle and patient. 

" _O-okay...Um,"_ the person took a deep breath. _"Gan-Gandhi, he works on this hotline, r-right?_ " they asked tearfully.

My eyes widened. Gandhi?

"Well- yes, he does. What happened, if I can ask? Is there trouble with the hotline?" 

" _S-something like that, yeah. U-um, you see, he just- humiliated me...he put me- he put me on speaker phone. And I- It- Eurgh!_ " the person yelled into the background, most likely pulling the way away from their mouth as they yelled in frustration. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't exactly put my finger on it.

"He did _what?_ " I hissed venomously, feeling anger fester within me at Gandhi's actions.

The line went quiet for a moment before I realized how enraged I sounded. "Oh- um, I'm sorry, I was just angry at him, not you. Don't worry!" I said, waving my arms frantically despite the fact that they couldn't see me. 

" _Yeah, okay. I'm just- so hurt, and mad, and I want to make him pay!_ " the caller grunted, the sounds of clothes ruffling in the background. 

"I mean- While I _should_ say that violence isn't the answer, I'm _so_ down to burn his clothes or something- if you'd like!" I chuckled, hearing the snickers of the other end at my response. 

" _While that sounds like a good idea, I think I want to do something equally as humiliating as he did to me,_ " the caller said, a grin in his tone. 

A smile curled on my face, feeling myself grow eager at what they're implying. "Could I help you? Like- you wanna join forces and get him back? I feel for you, I won't lie. And I also gotta get him back for ditching me here for the party." _Even if the price is losing my free food._

" _Of course. Oh- um, I should probably tell you that I'm Vincent. Van Gogh, heh..._ " My eyes widened. _Oh shit. Fuck, um. This is awkward._

"... _Hello? Um, I get it if you don't want to-_ " "Oh, no, no! Believe me, I'm okay with this! I think you're really cool but- um. Okay, look. I get it if I'm a weirdo and you change your mind and avoid me forever because of how pushy I was being, but um, I'm- um, M-Maude....From homeroom...?" I hesitantly said, trailing off nervously. 

" _...Oh._ " was all Vincent replied.

"I'm sorry if you hate me or something- I- I really didn't mean to be a fucking weirdo today, gosh I-!" I rambled before cutting myself off, feeling humiliated once again.

" _Hate you? I- I mean, I don't hate you! I's just- I thought- um. I thought you were...playing a sick joke on me. You weren't acting weird, but- I just thought there's no way a pretty girl would want to be my friend unless it was to- to embarrass me,_ " he nervously admitted, growing quiet. 

I gaped at the air for a second before sputtering and playing with the tips of my hair. "What?! No, I just wanted to be your friend! Like, actually! You seem really cool and I thought- oh my gosh," I laughed, leaning against the wall in relief. 

" _Wow, that- that means everything to me. I mean, do you still wanna go through with my whole revenge thing? Right now?_ " he asked me, his tone growing excited. 

"Yeah! Yes, of course! Bet, I'll meet you at the back of JFK's house, it's easy to find since it's the loudest house on the block tonight!" I squealed, bouncing eagerly on my heels. 

" _Okay! Yeah, I'll see you- then!_ " Vincent smiled through the phone before hanging up. I slapped a hand over my mouth and quietly screamed, my face flushing in excitement before I looked over at Mr. Sheepman and rushed over, placing the phone back on the table. "I'd better get going, Mr. Sheepman. Thank you for your help today!" I thanked him. "I'll be leaving now, too. Go have fun, kid!" he smiled, waving me off. 

I beamed excitedly before nodding and rushing out the door, running and laughing joyfully down the street as I anticipated the upcoming shit show about to happen, and with _Van Gogh, of all people!_ This couldn't get any better!

**...To be continued...**

***WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT PEANUT EVEN SAY??? GOBNAS? GANDHAS? I DONT KNOW??**


End file.
